


all because you lift me up

by montecarlos



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fuckbuddies, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: Jorge ignores the demand and silently pulls Dani close to his chest. He feels the initial resistance for a moment before the smaller rider sinks against his leathers and lets out a muffled sob.(three times that jorge comforted dani, and the one time that dani returned the favour)
Relationships: Jorge Lorenzo/Dani Pedrosa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	all because you lift me up

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was just something I wanted to get out of my system - I really love the three times fic format and my initial idea was to have Dani wear Jorge's clothes, but maybe I can return to that idea when I have some inspiration. This fic has a big time jump in between but I didn't want to fill it with information that wasn't relevant to the story and I hope that the gaps are addressed in a non-confusing way. The racing events really did happen, the other stuff, well we may never know. Title pulled from Lift Me Up by Oliver Heldens. I hope you all enjoy this!
> 
> Thank you to J as always.

_one.  
  
  
_ **_2012_ **   
  
The first time had been a complete accident, a result of Jorge’s egotistical nature in his youth. He had just won the championship, but not in the way he had wanted. Once Dani had hit the ground, he knew all he needed to do was stay on his own damn bike. Jorge barely remembers the end of the race, someone pushing the x-fuera flag into his shaking hands and the euphoric feeling that had followed. Casey squeezes him tightly in parc ferme, whispering congratulations in his ear and it should mean everything, a passing of the gauntlet as it were, but it’s not the person Jorge craves congratulations from. He tries to put the thought to the back of his mind as he drinks in the atmosphere, the camera flashes going off in his face, the team's cheers ringing in his ears. Everything after that is a blur of champagne against his tongue and singing as loud as he can with his team until he’s hoarse. 

_Campeón, Campeón, Campeón!_ _  
_ _  
_ The cries ring out long into the night and they follow him back on his way to his motorhome. He’s finally able to dig his phone out of his champagne-soaked leathers and scrolls through the seventy unread text messages left by his family and friends. Even Valentino, who has had a cordial relationship with Jorge since he left for Ducati, has sent him a message of congratulations. It’s short and to the point, but Jorge expected nothing less. But there’s nothing from Dani. Jorge knows the Spaniard has his number through some strange groupchat that Aleix had added them all into at the beginning of the season and there’s more messages of congratulations from some of his other fellow riders but not Dani. He staggers past the row of Honda motorhomes before he stops, glancing over at the one that he knows belongs to the older Spaniard. He’s not sure if it’s Dutch courage from half of the champagne that he’s managed to drink or just his own ego wanting to be stroked that makes him move towards the door.   
  
Jorge knocks once, but there’s no response. He knocks again, but this time, much louder. There’s still no response. Jorge glances up to see that there’s a dim light on the motorhome and he’s not sure if it’s his own annoyance or the champagne in his system that makes him tug gently on the handle. The door opens and Jorge steps inside, tentatively. There’s a possibility that Dani isn’t here and he’s still holed up in the clinica mobile, but that thought is soon wiped away by the sight of Dani’s boots lying haphazardly on the floor. Jorge is about to open his mouth when he spots the man he’s been looking for. Dani is sitting on the floor, next to the couch with his head resting on his knees, his shoulders shaking as wet sobs hover through the air. He’s still in his leathers, but Jorge can spot the worn down areas along Dani’s shoulder where he’s hit the gravel.   
  
“Dani?” Jorge can’t stop the words leaving his lips.   
  
Dani’s shoulders immediately stiffen at the intrusion and he turns his head slightly to look up at Jorge with red-rimmed eyes. “W-what are you doing here?”   
  
“I-” Jorge begins, suddenly feeling ashamed as he takes in the sight of how broken Dani looks. “What happened?”   
  
Dani lets out a slightly wet scoff. “What happened? _You_ happened, Lorenzo,” He spits out, his dark eyes still shining with tears. “Just leave me alone,”   
  
“What’s wrong? Are you injured? Hurt?”

A low snort. “Like you’d care,”  
  
Jorge feels the slight sting of Dani’s words. “Of course, I’d care-”   
  
Dani lets out a low sigh. “Why are you here Lorenzo? Because I didn’t come and congratulate you immediately on your _second_ title?”   
  
“I-”   
  
Dani laughs. “Typical. You can’t even let me have this one night to myself to process what’s happened. You have to make it about _you_ like you always have,”   
  
Jorge bites back the words that threaten to roll off his tongue. He knows why Dani is hurting. He’s had to sit back and watch Jorge snatch away the only thing that he’s wanted to win, the one dream that he had since they were both kids. “I know you’re upset-”   
  
“Upset?” Dani snarls, his eyes almost coal black. “How can you possibly know how I’m feeling Lorenzo? Just leave me alone,”

“Dani-”  
  
“I told you to get out, Lorenzo. Why can’t you go and celebrate with people who actually care? Don’t you think I’ve already been through enough today? I fell off the bike and lost my championship, just leave me to process that-” He snarls out, the tears slowly beginning to fall again, his small body shaking slightly.   
  
But Jorge is stubborn. He sinks down to the floor, his back against the couch. His leg brushes against the side of Dani’s body, still curled up as the older man’s head lifts up again, his expression full of confusion and regret.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Jorge murmurs after a few moments of silence.   
  
“For what?” Dani replies, his voice slightly shaky.

“I know how much you wanted to win this championship,”  
  
Dani stiffens at the words. “I don’t need your pity, Lorenzo. I’ve already had to deal with everyone’s pity this afternoon when I fell off my bike - all the pats on the back, all the sad smiles, everybody telling me that next year will be my year-” He stops for a moment. “And I had to celebrate with the team last year when Casey won and everyone said that next year that trophy would finally have my name on it,”   
  
Jorge watches in silence as the tears begin to fall down Dani’s face but he says nothing. “And I just - I look at you and Vale and Casey, you’ve all done it and I’m wondering when it’s finally going to be my turn, before it’s too late-” Dani stops, wiping away the tears quickly as though he’s ashamed of them. “I just think time is running out and I’m never going to be a champion - and now I’m sitting in my motorhome, still in my race leathers, letting my rival see me cry my eyes out like a baby-”   
  
Jorge doesn’t know what prompts him to do it. Maybe it’s how lost Dani looks in that moment, but his hand suddenly finds Dani’s, his fingers hooking around the smaller man’s. He barely has more than a few seconds to marvel at how _tiny_ Dani truly is - his hands almost fragile, the bones thin and the skin littered with scars from motorbikes - before Dani is snatching his hand back as though it burns.   
  
“Don’t touch me,” He hisses, the tears threatening to fall once more.   
  
But Jorge ignores the demand and silently pulls Dani close to his chest. He feels the initial resistance for a moment before the smaller rider sinks against his leathers and lets out a muffled sob. Jorge remains silent as he holds onto Dani as he cries, his hands moving to gently stroke through the Spaniard’s hair. It’s softer than he imagined, he thinks as he slowly cards his fingers through the thick dark strands, wondering how this became his life. Dani’s hands fist tightly into the front of his leathers and Jorge can feel the damp patch on the front of his chest but he doesn’t care.   
  
Dani’s sobs eventually quieten down, his hands slowly loosening their grip on the front of Jorge’s leathers and the Majorcan’s hand slows the rhythm through Dani’s hair as the older rider slowly pulls his head away, revealing red-rimmed eyes and a blotchy face. “I’m s-sorry,” Dani murmurs and Jorge can hear the shame.   
  
“Don’t ever be sorry,” Jorge replies and silence washes over the two men.   
  
Jorge isn’t sure how long they stay that way. It’s long after his back begins to protest at his poor posture, but that isn’t the thing that Jorge focuses on. He can sense the shift between them that night, and he’s sure that Dani can sense it too. But they choose not to say anything, remaining wrapped up in one another until the sunlight slowly begins to come through the window.   
  
Dani remains silent when Jorge finally decides to leave before the paddock decides to wake up and find the scandal of the newly crowned world champion leaving his bitter rival’s motorhome -   
  
“Thank you,” Dani murmurs, his cheeks pink as he glances up at Jorge.   
  
“You’re welcome,” Jorge replies. He doesn’t think they’re rivals anymore, maybe not friends either, but the potential to be something else. 

* * *

  
_two.  
_ _  
_ _  
_ **_2013_ **   
  
The second time makes more sense. They’re halfway through the new season, and things have dramatically shifted. After Qatar, they had embraced in parc ferme, ignoring all the whispers of what had prompted the two bitter rivals to draw a line in the sand. They’d told everyone that it was all part of growing up but they both knew it was more than that. Later that evening, Dani had turned up at Jorge’s motorhome and before the Majorcan could ask what was going on, Dani silenced him with his lips. Jorge doesn’t remember how he’d ended up shirtless, pressing a half-naked Dani against the door of his motorhome, the older rider’s legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed -   
  
They’d ended up doing it again in the morning - and again in Austin two weeks later - and before long, it became a routine. They spoke nothing of the thing between them outside of their motorhomes but it was evident that there was a dramatic shift in the dynamic between them. They no longer ignored one another when they were in parc ferme, always careful to limit their interactions to friendly handshakes and pats on the back, smiling at each other through their helmets. The arrangement goes on until Barcelona. Dani breaks it off that evening, pushing Jorge away after they’ve fucked up against the wall of Jorge’s motorhome.   
  
“We have to stop doing this,” Dani says, as he grabs his jeans from the floor.   
  
“What?” Jorge feels as though ice-water has been poured over him.   
  
“This thing between us has to stop,” Dani inches his way back into his jeans, Jorge’s eyes flickering over the mark that he’s left on Dani’s neck.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“You know why Jorge. Nothing good can come of this if we carry on. And we both know I’m going to be the one who gets hurt-”   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”   
  
But Dani doesn’t reply. The only sound is that of the door slamming shut and Jorge stares at himself in the mirror, at the bruise that Dani had sucked into his skin and he can’t pretend that he can’t feel his heart shatter. He intends to carry on as normal and then Assen happens. Jorge feels the white-hot pain shoot through his collarbone as he hits the gravel and he knows it’s bad. It’s the same fucking shoulder that he’d ended up breaking four years prior in the 250cc category.   
  
Numbed by painkillers, he barely recognises what the doctors are saying - something about emergency surgery in Barcelona - he just nods along and nothing registers. His last coherent thought before he’s put under for surgery is if Dani would even be worried about him.

The surgery goes well and he’s thankful to be back in Holland the next morning, despite Yamaha’s inability to leave him alone, afraid that he’s going to break. He passes by the Honda garage and can’t stop himself glancing towards Dani’s side. He spots the older rider preparing for qualifying in the back of his garage. Jorge tries to ignore the dark circles under his eyes and the lines of worry that seem to drain his face and focus on his own problems. His shoulder is still sore and he’s had as many injections as he could beg from the Yamaha doctors, but it’s still not enough. He manages to scrape through qualifying, just missing out on the top ten by a few tenths. Jorge is able to have another injection after he all but falls off his bike at the end of qualifying but it barely dulls the ache as he traipses back to his motorhome, the dull edge of pain still stabbing at his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” Dani’s voice cuts through the buzz of everything and Jorge blinks, registering that Dani is in his motorhome, still dressed in his Honda leathers as though he’s jumped off his bike and sprinted to Jorge’s motorhome. He steps closer to the Majorcan, his hands gently cupping Jorge’s face. “Jorge?”   
  
It’s so _tender_. Dani’s dark eyes are fixed on him and Jorge can see the worry in them, Dani’s thumb gently brushing against his cheek. Jorge has to close his eyes at the contact, at the sight of Dani looking at him like that -   
  
“Jorge, what’s wrong?”   
  
Jorge snorts. “Don’t pretend to care, Pedrosa. This is exactly what you wanted - me out and injured, so you have a clean run to the title,”   
  
He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips. But he can’t help himself. He’s angry, he’s in pain, he doesn’t know what _they_ are. Dani stiffens at his words, and goes to move away but Jorge catches his wrists and holds him close. “What was I to you, Dani? Just a quick fuck to take the edge off?”   
  
“Let go of me, Jorge,” Dani whispers, trying to yank himself away.   
  
“Why did you come here? Thought that you could just drop me and then come back for a quick shag?”   
  
“I was worried about you-”   
  
Jorge scoffs. “You lost the right to be worried when you decided that it was over, Dani,” 

Dani pushes a hand over his eyes and Jorge notices the tell-tale glitter of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Am I not allowed to be worried about you? We’re friends-”  
  
“ _Friends?_ We’re not friends,” Jorge spits, tugging Dani closer. “Ex-lovers maybe,”   
  
Dani stiffens at the word. “What do you want me to say Jorge?”   
  
“I want you to tell me the truth. I want to know why you stopped the arrangement,”   
  
“I told you, we’re no good for each other-”   
  
“Bullshit. I know you’re lying to me, Dani,” Jorge hisses, the pain in his shoulder is beginning to lift slightly, a definite indicator that his injection is working, but he barely notices, his attention completely taken by the man in his arms. “Stop lying to me-” He snarls. “Tell me the truth!”   
  
“I love you!” Dani screams back.   
  
Jorge feels his fingers go slack and Dani disappears, a wet sob audible over the slam of the door. Jorge feels the dull ache return but he’s not sure if it’s from his collarbone or from his heart.   
  
Dani is strangely absent for the remainder of the weekend. He disappears from the podium as soon as he is able to and despite Jorge standing outside his motorhome for twenty minutes, he ignores the Majorcan. Jorge leaves Assen with a heavy heart, the Honda rider’s words hanging constantly on his mind like a thread he could not pick.   
  
Jorge’s initial plan to speak to Dani in Germany is ruined in free practise. In hindsight, racing two weeks after surgery was a big enough ask, but he feels the same white-hot pain jolt through his already sensitive collarbone as he hits the gravel again and swears loudly under his breath. The time he had planned to corner the Honda rider is taken up by the clinica team running tests and declaring him unfit for the race. He’s released shortly after, again numbed by painkillers. He passes by Dani’s motorhome and finds himself moving towards the door. Before he can stop himself, he’s knocking on the door and it opens. Dani stands before him, looking even tinier than usual in one of his oversized hoodies, his hair all mussed and the dark circles still under his eyes.   
  
“Jorge,” He begins quietly.   
  
Jorge gently brushes past the Honda rider wordlessly. “We need to talk,”   
  
Dani nods once and closes the door. They sit on the couch, a little distance between one another, Dani picking at one of the strings of his hoodie before he breaks the silence.   
  
“How is your shoulder?”   
  
“I’ll need surgery later this week to sort it out - but we both know that that’s not why I am here.”   
  
He spots the subtle flinch of Dani’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean to say that - I was angry and-”   
  
“Stop lying to me and just tell me the truth,”   
  
“Why? So you can use my feelings against me?” Dani laughs. “Tell everyone what I truly am and how you’ve had me under you begging you to do things to me?”   
  
“I would never do that,” Jorge fires back, furious at the mere implication that he could do that. “You love me and you’re scared of what that means,”   
  
“We can’t be together, Jorge!” Dani explodes in anger.   
  
“Why not?” Jorge fires back the challenge.   
  
“Just get out Jorge! I don’t have to explain myself to you!” Dani curls up, looking smaller than ever in his hoodie, his cheeks red. 

“What are you afraid of?”   
  
Dani raises his eyes to meet Jorge’s. They’re dark and glassy, he’s on the verge of tears. “You,”   
  
Jorge feels his heart break. “Me?”   
  
“I’m scared you’ll hurt me. I’m scared you’ll break my heart - and that this thing between us means nothing to you,” Dani murmurs, looking hurt and so lost that Jorge finds himself pulling the Honda rider closer, marvelling at how well their bodies fit together, Dani’s head slotting perfectly against his shoulder. Dani breaks against his shoulder, his hands fisting into Jorge’s t-shirt as he lets out his hurt and frustration.   
  
“I would never hurt you,” Jorge murmurs against Dani’s hair, taking in the scent of the older man’s shampoo. “I’d rather hurt myself than you,”   
  
Dani sobs harder and Jorge wonders if he’s said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you. You just - you hurt me too and I didn’t want to admit that-” He says quietly, stroking Dani’s back. “It’s okay to be scared - I was scared too-” He pauses, watching as the sobs slowly begin to subside. Dani’s face remains pressed against his shirt. “And if you’d stayed instead of running away, I’d have been able to tell you that I love you too,”   
  
Silence hangs in the air for a moment.   
  
“I don’t know when it happened,” Jorge continues, his hand slowly moving up and down Dani’s back. “Maybe I always did, but that’s why I didn’t want to stop the thing between us, because I didn’t want to lose you,”   
  
Dani slowly lifts his head up. Glassy dark brown eyes meet hazel-green. Dani doesn’t say a word as he leans in and captures Jorge’s lips against his own. It’s not a conventional answer but Jorge knows exactly what Dani means. 

* * *

  
_three.  
_   
  
**_2018_ **   
  
The third time is not a surprise. Jorge knew it was coming. Dani had decided to retire at the end of the season - it was a decision that they had talked about together as a couple. They’ve been together for five years - they’ve been through just about everything together. Injuries, championships and now retirement. Jorge knew this day would eventually come, that Dani wouldn’t be standing by his side for the next season but he never knew how much it would hurt. He remembers the day that Dani and he sat at their kitchen table in their shared apartment in Geneva, the sun was shining through the window and illuminating Dani’s face. His hair was still half mussed, the greying streak that had begun to grow out in the past few years more stark than ever, a firm reminder that he was getting older.   
  
“I’m going to retire at the end of the season,” Dani says softly, his hands curling around Jorge’s.   
  
Jorge stiffens. “But what about the offers from KTM and Yamaha-”   
  
Dani shakes his head. “I don’t want them. I’ve had my time, it’s time for me to step back. I don’t think I can handle another injury,”   
  
Jorge’s finger slowly strokes over the scar on Dani’s right wrist, a reminder of the surgery he’d had a few years ago to save his career. “But-”   
  
“I’ve had a think about it, and I know you expected me to change my mind but it’s what I want to do. We have to face the reality that my time is up,”   
  
Jorge bites the inside of his cheek. “I should have never accepted the Honda seat,”   
  
“I encouraged you to do that. Besides, I’m leaving my seat with the best replacement I can think of,” Dani says as he leans in, pressing a gentle chaste kiss against Jorge’s lips. “I’ll tell Honda and Dorna at the next race so they can prepare,”   
  
“Are you sure you want to do this? Give it all up?”   
  
“I’m sure,” Dani says as he draws back. Jorge’s eyes slowly flicker over his face, pale golden in the sunlight and even now, the older man manages to take his breath away. “We can’t all be like Vale, it has to end eventually,”   
  
Jorge chuckles at the mention of his ex-teammate, his hand squeezing Dani’s. “If you’re sure, I’ll always support your decision,”   
  
Dani grins. “I’m sure. I’ve thought about it for a long time and I think I’m ready,”   
  
However, despite Dani’s affirmations that he is ready and that he is completely accepting of the situation, Jorge still has his doubts. He watches silently from the front row of the press conference, trying not to draw attention to himself as he watches Dani sit in front of the media and tell them the same decision that he reached a few weeks ago in their apartment. Jorge picks at his fingernails and bites the inside of his cheek as he sees Dani swipe at his eyes a few times. His voice cracks and Jorge knows that he’s more upset about this than he’s letting on. 

Jorge’s suspicions are proven right when Dani finally makes his way back to their shared motorhome and immediately falls into his boyfriend’s arms. Jorge feels all the emotions and realisation of what is happening pour out of Dani, his small shoulders shaking under the exertion of his sobs. Jorge squeezes him tightly, feeling his own eyes grow a little wet at the situation, his lips slowly moving to gently kiss Dani’s hair.   
  
“I’m so proud of you,” Jorge says, his lips against Dani’s soft curls. “So proud of you,”   
  
“I-I don’t want to go,” Dani sobs against his chest, his hands fisting into Jorge’s Ducati shirt. “I’m going to leave and nobody will remember me-”   
  
“Hey,” Jorge whispers, his hands moving to cup Dani’s face, lifting it upwards to meet his own. “You will never be forgotten, you’re a legend and you’re the reason that there’s so many Spanish riders in the sport now. They all wanted to be like you,”   
  
“That’s because of Vale-” Dani says, his voice wet.   
  
“You are my hero, Dani. You were the first reference I had, Marc and Maverick’s first reference when they moved up into the big leagues, all those guys owe it to you - because you were the first one to succeed-”   
  
Dani stares back wordlessly, the tears still falling down his cheeks as Jorge continues. “And you’re still a three time world champion and nobody can ever erase that,” He slowly wipes away the tears that fall down Dani’s cheeks with his thumbs, marvelling at how beautiful his boyfriend looks, even when he’s broken and upset.   
  
“I just- I’m worried that I’m going to be irrelevant next year,” Dani sniffs. “You’re going to be at Honda fighting Marc and everyone and everyone’s going to forget I exist - and when I come to races with you, I would be Jorge Lorenzo’s boyfriend,”   
  
“You would never be just my boyfriend,” Jorge slowly strokes Dani’s face. “You’re _Dani Pedrosa_ ,”

Dani bites his lip, his dark eyes locked on Jorge. “I love you,”  
  
Jorge grins. “I love you too,”   
  
Later that night, they’re curled up in the bed they share during race weekends, Dani already fast asleep, his face pillowed on Jorge’s chest. Jorge glances down at the sleeping man in his arms. He himself is unable to sleep, his thoughts are still racing. They had discussed Dani’s future, about the role that KTM had offered him in a testing capacity. Jorge would support Dani no matter what, but he knew that Dani wanted to continue to work in a way that worked for him, and well, it worked for Jorge too. Dani still got to be a part of the paddock and he wasn’t putting himself at risk every single race weekend. Not to mention, KTM were pretty eager to have someone with Dani’s knowledge and experience as part of their team.   
  
Jorge’s thoughts turn to the ring box still hidden deep in his bedside table, he’s had it picked out for months now, but he’s still thinking about the right time to ask. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of Dani’s head. 

Maybe not now, but soon. 

* * *

_  
+one.  
_   
  
**_2019_ ** **_  
_** **_  
_** Jorge barely remembers his final race in MotoGP. He remembers the emotions that flow through him as he waves to the crowds in Valencia, all chanting his name - there’s sadness certainly but the main emotion is that of relief. It’s been a tough year, he’s struggled to get to grips with the Honda and suffer a horrendous and almost career-ending injury. He pulls into the pits and he’s immediately swamped by everyone. He’s used to it, it’s been happening all weekend and he’s touched to see how many people care about him. He knows he will miss the atmosphere at the race weekends, the roar of the crowd, the smell of gasoline hovering through the air, signing autographs for screaming people, taking photographs - and most of all, the rush of racing as he makes his bike dance underneath him.   
  
He’s thankful to stagger into his motorhome a few hours later and get away from everyone, but he can feel the emotions overwhelm him before he’s even closed the door, his eyes stinging with tears. This is really it, he thinks to himself, and a sob pushes itself through his lips.   
  
He feels warm arms curl around his shoulders, Dani’s warm chest against his back as Dani leans in to kiss his neck. “Are you okay?” Dani murmurs softly.   
  
Jorge leans back into the touch, his own hand moving to clasp at Dani’s smaller one, his fingers slowly brushing over the wedding ring that he’d put on there a few months ago. “I just feel...it’s really over isn’t it?”   
  
“It’s not over,” Dani’s tone is gentle, his lips moving slowly against Jorge’s hair. “This will always be your home, as it is mine. They’ll always welcome you home,”   
  
Jorge lets out the sob he was hanging onto. “I just never thought I’d leave. This place has been my family for as long as I can remember-”   
  
“And it always will be. They’re never going to forget you, Jorge,” Dani kisses his neck softly, his light breath tickling Jorge’s neck.   
  
Silence stretches out between the two men, still curled up around each other.   
  
“I’m proud of you,” Dani whispers, lifting Jorge’s hand to gently brush his lips against Jorge’s knuckles, over the matching ring that he wears on his stubbly finger he lost in Phillip Island all those years ago. It’s the only thing he likes about the finger. “You worked so hard this year and I’m sorry that those idiots didn’t recognise that,”   
  
“Well, I had the best husband by my side,” Jorge feels the smile brush against the corner of his lips. Dani always knows how to make him feel better. He’s always had that ability to melt away Jorge’s anger with just a simple touch or a kiss to his mouth. Jorge has always reckoned it’s his calm demeanor.   
  
Dani remains quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t me who fought my way back to health and got back on the bike after that injury they suffered,”   
  
“You definitely helped me - all that physical therapy you did,” Jorge says, the tiny smirk illuminating his face as he thinks about the amount of times they’d managed to have sex after he was healed. He knows Dani is blushing, the older man has gone silent. 

“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jorge’s voice softens again. “This year has been hard - and I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you what with all the wedding planning and Honda-”  
  
“It’s okay,” Dani whispers, his lips moving to kiss the base of Jorge’s neck. “Having a break sounds good. Do you have any ideas?”

Jorge turns around, his arms moving to clasp at Dani’s waist. “What do you think about going to Bali?”   
  
Dani raises an eyebrow. “You’ve already booked this, haven’t you?”   
  
“Maybe,” Jorge smirks as he leans in for a kiss. 


End file.
